Short Short: A Good Deed

By Charles Smyth

We were half-way through our third drink when the old guy at the end of the bar toppled off his stool onto the floor. He lay there for several minutes, his face turning gray. No one helped him. So we called nine one one. The ambulance arrived quickly, and two EMTs loaded the guy onto a stretcher and carted him off.

An hour and a half later, he walked back into the bar and said something to the bartender, who pointed at us. He nodded and headed our way.

"Probably wants to buy us a drink," I said to my friend.

"Next time," the old guy told us. "Mind your own fucking business."